


The King's Gambit

by LadyLace



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bets & Wagers, Cruise Ships, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Post-Break Up, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21721069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLace/pseuds/LadyLace
Summary: Charles goes on a cruise ship and runs in to his ex. It goes about as well as you might expect.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48
Collections: Secret Mutant Exchange 2019





	The King's Gambit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lamia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamia/gifts).



> sorry if any bad errors! didn't get a chance to edit!! :(

**_The King’s Gambit (how not to flirt 101)_ **

Charles is at a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. He’d been driving so long he isn’t even sure what town, or even what state, he’s in anymore. He’s driving to Florida for a singles’ cruise ship ticket he’d won by chance over the radio. He’d fly, like a sane person would, but ever since his parents had been killed in a plane crash twenty years ago, he’s avoided planes and airports like the plague. Never mind that a road trip, alone, from New York to Florida is long and tedious. 

The clerk is ringing up his gatorade and snacks when Charles hears it. Something so innocent and simple that it shouldn’t matter a single bit to anybody. But it matters to Charles. 

Charles fumbles the change in his hands, and the coins drop to the counter. His breath is coming in quicks pants and he can feel his sweaty palms start to shake.

That song.

Why, oh why, did that song have to play? Why  _ now? _

Why did it have to play  _ today _ of all days when Charles is feeling nostalgic and bitter and lonely? The radio could’ve played  _ any song  _ besides that one. But no. It just had to be the one song Charles hasn’t--and can’t--listen to anymore. Not since… not since high school. Not since the crash. And not since… not since the man who broke his heart in a million pieces all those years ago. 

Charles belatedly realizes the clerk has been speaking to him. 

“S-sorry,” Charles stutters out and hands the teenager the change he’s gathered quickly from the counter. 

The clerk just frowns at him and give Charles an odd side-glanced look. 

“Have a nice day,” the pimply teenager recites monotonously. 

“T-thanks…” Charles blushes and quickly leaves the gas station to head back to his old sedan.

The only reason he’s even  _ on  _ this trip is because Moira, a fellow professor, had insisted. She’d told him that he’s not  _ dating _ anymore, and that he certainly isn’t trying. 

“Go take a holiday,” she’d said with a scolding tone, “what harm could a fun cruise do, Charles?” 

_ Famous last words, darling,  _ Charles thought grimly. 

Charles looks at the GPS on his phone to see how much longer he has to drive before he’s finally in the port-town this godforsaken ship moors at. 

Wonderful. He’s someplace called St. Pauls, North Carolina. And has ten hours, minimum, to go. Great. Just great.

Charles buckles in and bangs his head lightly against the steering wheel. He’s starting to think he should’ve just popped an Ambien (or three) and slept on a plane. 

He sighs. He knows he still would’ve gone headlong into a panic attack even  _ before _ he’d boarded the plane. It’s wishful thinking, is all.

Charles leans back against the seat and rubs a hand down his face. Best to get back to it. The car won’t drive itself after all. 

  
  
  
  
  


…….

  
  
  
  


Charles finally finds an extended-stay parking lot to stash his car in for the near ten day long cruise he’s going to subject himself too. It’s a twelve minute walk to the port, but Charles needs to stretch his legs anyways after being cooped up in the car for twenty hours. 

Charles stretches and gives a small groan when he feels his spine and left shoulder pop.

The walk is pleasant, the breeze cool despite the humidity beating him down, and the vendors he sees set up along the road are all cheerful and friendly for the most part. 

Charles is starting to think maybe this trip will be a good idea after all.

What’s the worst that could happen?   
  


  
  
  


…..

  
  
  


Charles is finding that a lot of things could happen actually. 

One of them being that Erik Lehnsherr, his ex-boyfriend from high school, apparently is  _ also _ on this cruise. 

Charles had spotted him in the queue to board the ship, and Charles had nearly had a nervous breakdown right then and there. 

Now he’s aboard, his bad (but not overly terrible) panic attack receding slowly to discover that the ship has alreadly unmoored and headed off. Which means Charles can no longer disembark unless he throws himself overboard. 

The prospect is starting to sound far more tantalizing than it probably should. As it stands, he was already halfway tempted to do it the second he noticed Erik. The only reason he  _ hasn’t  _ actually gone throught with it is because Erik has not noticed  _ him.  _

_ Small mercies, _ Charles thinks with a grimace. 

He wants to keep it that way, too, so Charles makes sure to stay well and truly out of sight all throughout the Meet & Greet social cocktail hour thing  _ and  _ dinner. 

It isn’t until he gets to his quarters that Charles realizes how utterly hopeless and moot the whole endeavour was. 

Because Erik Lehnsherr is his roommate. 

The door is wide open behind Charles and Charles’ own mouth is in a similar state. 

Erik’s back is towards the gaping scholar, but his frame stiffens in surprise and Charles can tell he’s going to turn around any moment. 

So Charles does what one might do when faced with an ex and bolts right out the open door before Erik can see him. 

Charles runs and runs until he’s put as much distance possible between him and the room. 

Ironically, or luckily, perhaps, he stops in front of one of the bars. 

Charles drops into the barstool with a loud thud that seems to take even the bartender by surprise. 

“Hello, sir,” the blond-haired young man greets.

Charles waves and then drops his head onto the wooden bar. It only hurts a little.

“Um. What can I get you?”

A boat off this boat. A new face. A new room. Lots of things, Charles grumbles in his own, but doesn’t say aloud. 

“Scotch. On the rocks, please,” is what Charles says instead.

“Any particular brand?”

“Surprise me,” Charles mutters with a wave of his hand; his face still firmly planted on the table. 

The bartender doesn’t reply, but Charles hears the clacking of glasses and other background noise that suggest he’s complied. 

Charles lifts his head when he hears the glass being put down in front of him. 

“Thanks,” he manages and tosses the drink back in one toss. Charles puts the glass down and meets the blond’s eyes. 

The man’s eyes are very, very wide and surprised. “You alright?” He blurts. 

Charles feels something fluttering in his belly that rises slowly, but hotly. 

He breaks out into hysterical laughs that makes the bartender look more and more concerned. 

  
Charles laughs harder. 

He’s in a fit of tears when Charles finally notices that the bartender has come to sit down next to him with a tissue and another drink. 

  
Charles wipes an eye and manages to smother the giggles enough to again drink the glass in one fell swoop. 

“I’m Alex,” the blond sticks out a hand for Charles to shake. 

“Charles,” he says and grips the man’s hand. 

“You just came aboard and you’re already miserable?” Alex says with an amused arch to his brow. 

Charles chuckles and has to force down the hysteria that threatens to come back up.

“My… my ex is here,” Charles admits with sinking shoulders. 

Alex just blinks and tilts his head. 

“It… it was-- it was a very bad breakup,” Charles confesses quietly. Although, “bad” doesn’t quite begin to cover everything that that breakup did to him.

Alex nods in understanding. “I get that, man. You shouldn’t let them make you miserable, though.”

“I-- we’re roommates,” Charles puts his head in his hands and releases a shuddering sigh.

Alex whistles. “That’s some real rotten luck, man.”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Charles mutters with a self-deprecating smile. 

“Wanna talk about it?” The blond offers kindly.

“No! I mean-- I-- no, thank you, that’s very generous… but I--”

“It’s all cool; don’t worry about it,” Alex puts up two placating hands. 

Charles sighs and fiddles with his glass. 

“Another?” Charles hears.

Charles looks up and Alex is already on the other side of the bar, ready to refill his glass. 

Charles just looks at the now filling glass with bewilderment an a healthy dose of awe. 

“You-- you’re quite stealthy, aren’t you?” Charles releases the tension in his body. 

Alex shrugs. “You were a little out of it.” 

  
Charles blushes. 

Alex just shakes his head and points toward a door behind the bar. “I gotta go do inventory. Bottle’s here,” Alex picks up the Scotch and sets it down, “if you need it.” 

Charles can do nothing but gape as the bartender leaves.

He eyes the top of the bottle that he can see from his position at the bar, but just sighs and turns his glass upside down atop the counter. 

He gets up from the stool and leaves the bar.

Charles decides he’s not going to get any sleep tonight anyway, and foolishly hopes he’ll be able to get this situation resolved. So, he makes his way to the customer service desk.

He explains the situation and asks if he could please be moved to a different room; he doesn’t mind having to pay a fee, if necessary. 

The desk-worker says she can see if there’s another room availble, but gently informs him that the cruise is pretty much filled to capacity. 

He agonizingly waits five minutes with flickering hope when she looks up from her computer with a wince on her face.

She apologizes profusely, but informs him all the rooms are full. 

Charles lets out a deep sigh, thanks her for her time and wanders back out onto the open deck with his head bowed.

He’s stubborn, though, so he still refuses to go back to the room that night. He bides his time by exploring the massive ship and poking his nose into every nook and cranny. Every once in a while he’d stumble upon a crewmember who always seemed surprised to see him wandering about. They all just raised their eyebrows and kept at their jobs.

Charles couldn’t blame them, honestly. He wouldn’t want to deal with the strange, roaming passenger, either.

After seeing every last bit of the cruise Charles finds himself at one of the pools.

He lowers himself down onto one of the unexpectedly comfortable sunloungers and stares out at the horizon with deeply buried memories he’d long since forgotten stabbing behind his eyes and begging to be set free.

He never wanted to remember.

  
  
  
  


_ ~*~ _

**_14 Years Ago…_ **

Charles met Erik by, quite literally, running into him. Charles was rushing to get to his next class that happened to be located at the other end of the building. 

Erik happened to be coming out of a classroom at the same time Charles was dashing passed. 

The two collided into a piles of limbs with Charles finding himself on top of the other boy.

It wasn’t like Charles didn’t know who Erik Lehnsherr was. The mysterious and pensive jock was very popular amongst his peers, especially those of the female variety. 

Charles just hadn’t expected Erik to know who  _ he _ was. 

“Charles,” the boy’s deep timbre huffed with something Charles thought might be amusement.

“I-I- Erik! I’m so sorry!” Charles scrambles up from what he is now realizing was a very compromising, very embarrassing position with a warm blush blooming across his cheeks. 

Charles catches a glimpse of one of the clocks in the hallway and cries out, “Drat! I’m so, so sorry, but I’ve got to go!” And he sprints down the hallway towards the class he’s now late for. 

  
  
  


Charles had tried not to give the encounter much more thought, but found his traitorous brain replaying the memory in high-definition. Over and over.

It’s not until lunch that Charles sees Erik again. 

Erik, who is, for some unexplicable reason, staring at him with a smug grin. 

It makes butterflies stampede all throughout Charles’ abdomen in a very strange, addicting manner. 

….

Weeks go by without another meeting. Luckily the second time happens with far less fanfare. 

Sort of.

Charles hadn’t been watching in front of him, too busy looking at the scuffed linoleum and his shoes when he’d stumbled into something hard.

Charles jerks his head up in alarm to see that same smug grin Erik had been sending his way since their little hallway incident. 

Charles immediately backs up to put some space between them and Erik’s grin takes on a distinctive shark-like quality. 

It’s… charming, if not mildly terrifying. 

“How nice to _bump_ into you again,” Erik says in a way that would be jokingly if it were anyone else. 

Charles nods his head furiously, trying and not succeeding to keep another flush from spreading across his face.

The handsome boy cocks an eyebrow and just looks at him.

Charles’ blush, if possible, burns brighter.

“I-- yes. Nice to see you again. Erik.”

“I’ve an idea,” the jock says with a slightly mischievious tone.

“What’s that?” Charles licks his lips.

“How ‘bout you let me take you on a date?” 

And Charles, besotted teenager with a crush that he was, enthusiastically agreed.

….

They went on a great many dates before Charles let Erik kiss him. 

They were sitting on a blanket in a park looking out as the sun went down when Erik began to lean in like he’d been doing the past few times. This time, however, Charles leaned in to meet him halfway.

It was just a quick press of the lips, but Charles had the notion that Erik was a far more experienced kisser than he. 

It had the unfortunate consequence of making Charles feel like the blithering virgin he happened to be.

He shyly pulled away from Erik and quickly started a subject that led into a far less stressful territory.

They meet at a coffee shop a couple times after the picnic, do several chess dates that Charles found was quickly becoming a favorite activity to do with Erik.

They were on one such chess date, with a set laid out on the steps they were sitting on, when Charles got the sudden urge to kiss Erik.

So he did.

Erik kissed back with a smile on his lips and Charles had the terrifying epiphany that he was rapidly falling in love with Erik. 

The moment Charles got home he just  _ had _ to share the news with his sister.

Raven had squealed and hugged him and told him how happy she was for him and that she got to gussy him up for prom when Erik inevitably asked him to go.

At the time he had wondered what made her think this would be so long-term, but he should’ve questioned her certainty. After all… it wasn’t like _ Erik _ was in love with  _ him _ . 

Charles starts going to Erik’s games, Erik starts coming over to Charles’ house to hang out, and they start holding hands in public. Charles falls deeper in love and Charles can’t tell if Erik feels the same, so he doesn’t say anything. He lets their dating continue as it has been: sweet and casual. 

A few weeks later Erik asks him to prom.

Charles almost cries he’s so happy, and as it is he can barely speak through his excitement and joy. 

He tells Raven that night at dinner. 

She beams and tells him she knew Erik would ask. They were such a cute couple, she’d said. 

Charles had grinned from ear to ear with a blinding smile. He’d laughed and hugged her so tight.

He’d been too caught up in his gleeful wonder and a 16-year-old’s first love to notice Raven’s brief wince and even briefer look of agonizing guilt before it’d disappeared completely off her face.

  
  


The prom venue and decorations were beautiful and he felt so prideful that he’d gotten invited to a prom that normally only junior and seniors could go to.

He wasn’t the  _ only _ sophomore there, sure, but he was one of few and it made him feel special. 

Charles had been getting formal dance lessons at his mother’s insistence since he was eight, so he was quite excited to get the chance to finally dance with Erik. 

And they did dance. They only stopped for quick bathroom breaks and to get drinks and food. 

They danced until both their feet hurt and Charles’ cheeks were sore from smiling so much. 

They danced until Erik pulled them away from the loud, pounding music and to the more secluded outside balcony. Erik pulled him into a chair and Charles was so content and relaxed that he kissed Erik first. 

They just lightly pecked and smooched until Charles accidentally bit Erik’s lip and Erik groaned. 

It made Charles flush hot and smile broadly. 

Erik had narrowed his eyes at Charles’ delighted expression and started turning their kissing into something far dirtier and quicker-paced.

They were definitely in the middle of necking and making out when a teacher caught them and told them to “cool their jets”.

Charles had been so embarrassed that he’d fallen off Erik’s lap and landing bum-first onto the cold, hard concrete. 

He heard Erik try to stiffle a laugh and glared up at his boy-- was Erik his boyfriend?

Charles felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him and he hastily told Erik he had to use the bathroom. 

He splashed water on his face and tried to calm down. Maybe later… he’d ask Erik. Ask him if they were boyfriends or still just “dating”. He wanted to know. Had to know. He is… he’s too in love with Erik for Charles to be ok with just keeping things casual anymore. 

So. Later. Charles will talk to Erik about it later. 

He will.

They go back to just dancing and having an overall goodtime when the DJ announces the last song of the night will be a slow one. 

Charles sees his opportunity. 

“Erik?” he asks into the boy’s shoulder where his face is mashed. He inhales deeply and focuses on Erik’s cologne and inexplicable musk. 

“Yes, Charles?” 

“We’re boyfriends, right?” Charles closes his eyes and holds his breath. His grip tightens around Erik’s neck.

“Yeah,” comes the soft response, “we are.” 

Charles leans back to look into Erik’s eyes. Charles smiles broadly and giggles. “Good.” He snuggles back into Erik’s embrace as they continue to sway to the soft music. 

Charles tells Raven that night with a dreamy expression on his face about how great having a relationship is and how much he enjoys Erik’s company. 

She seems like she’s in a bad mood, though, so Charles doesn’t go into it too much even though he desperately wants to confess all his emotions and feelings to  _ somebody _ . He really wants it to be his sister, so maybe he’ll try to talk to her again tomorrow. 

The year continues and their romantic dates and overall couply attitude would be enough to give anyone cavities. 

…

Charles starts his junior year and Erik starts his senior year. Their dates and cavity-causing relationship continues.

Charles still hasn’t told Erik he loves him. They haven’t slept together yet, either. He’s waiting for the right moment. Their first year anniversary, maybe, to do both at once. Make it special. 

While his relationship with Erik grows, the one with his sister seems to dimish. Charles, for the life of him, cannot figure out why. Everything had been going so well in life and he’d wanted to share some of his happiness with one of his favorite family members, but Raven had become withdrawn and… cold. Snappish, even. He doesn’t know what he’s done to piss her off, but he hopes he can make things right.

“Raven,” he says at the dinner table one night. 

She grunts to let him know she’s heard him. 

“Whatever I’ve done to offend you, my dear sister, I’m so sorry. Please tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads. 

She glances up sharply from where she’d been moving the vegetables around the plate with her fork. 

“You’re sorry?” She gapes, “For  _ what?” _

“I-- well, I don’t know, love, I thought  _ you _ could tell me--”

Raven throws her hands up in the air and makes an exasperated noise. “For God’s sake, Charles, not everything is  _ about you!” _

Charles blinks, feeling a little hurt. “I-- I know? I just-- you’ve been very… aloof towards me recently, so I thought--”

“You thought you’d done something wrong,” She concludes, her voice frosty. 

“Y-yes.” Charles runs a hand through his hair and folds his hands in his lap. He tries not to fidget. 

Charles startles when he hears the chair screech back and hears her palms slamming down on the table. 

“No, Charles, you didn’t do anything  _ wrong _ ,” she spits furiously and stomps off towards her room. 

Charles has to blink away his tears before turning back to his now unpalatable dinner. His mother, usually a silent presence at the table, is staring after her. 

His mother’s head is tilted, an odd expression on her face.

  
“Charles, dear, how has school been?” 

The question shocks him speechless. His mother, whose eyes tend to be vacant and her speech slurred with drunkenness when she  _ does _ speak, is not even tipsy today.

“It’s--” Charles thinks of everything besides Raven and his jaw goes slack for a moment. “It’s wonderful,” he finishes.

His mother is looking at him with something like pity in her eyes. 

“You have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” She asks point-blank.

Charles drops his fork. It clatters to the table with a resounding clang that makes Charles flinch. 

“I-- how did you--” he stutters. 

“Oh, my dear,” she sighs, “you are not as subtle as you think.” 

Charles can feel his heart slamming against his sternum in an attempt to break free from his chest. 

He hadn’t thought his mother had noticed or known about anything going on her children’s lives ever since his father died in that car accident several years ago. 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t think you--” 

“Darling,” she smiles sadly, “I’ve known since you were small that a husband was just as likely for you as a wife. Now tell me all about it.” She takes a sip of her favored brandy, but the vacant look is nowhere to be found.

Charles gushes. He tells her all about Erik and how wonderful he is. He even tells her that he thinks he loves Erik.

“I know he’s graduating this year,” Charles murmurs, “but I really think we’ll last.” 

His mother gets a pinched look to her face and something so sad and broken flashes in her eyes that Charles inhales sharply. The haunted expression has returned.

  
Charles feels dread coil tightly and uncomfortably in his stomach. 

“Sometimes,” she says with a strange edge to her voice, “love isn’t enough.” 

Charles bites his lip hard. “I don’t understand.” 

His mother grimaces. “I pray you won’t ever have to.” 

Then her eyes turn away, vacant and haunted once more. Charles tries hard not to cry.

This time he can’t keep the tears at bay as he watches his mother lose herself, once again, to her grief.

Raven’s behavior becomes stranger. She avoids him as if he had the plague. She won’t even wave to him or speak to him at all. It’s starting to take its toll on Charles’ mental wellbeing, so he brings it up to his boyfriend hoping for nothing more than a hug, understanding, and maybe a little support.

Instead, Erik’s face becomes closed off. His eyes dark and dangerous. 

“Erik?” He asks.

But his boyfriend is already angrily stalking away.

Nothing makes sense anymore, so Charles can only just helplessly watch him go. 

  
  


….

  
  


After that, things become tense between Erik and him. Charles isn’t sure why, but he feels like Erik is avoiding him now, too, and what’s crazier is that Charles seems to be attracting a lot of attention (stares) from everyone. It’s making him more than a little uncomfortable. 

They speak very minimally for the next week. 

Charles confronts Erik on Friday before their Spring Break officially begins when the school bell rings. 

“What the bloody hell, Erik?” Charles doesn’t normally curse, but feels this is a situation that calls for it. 

Erik’s face morphs into shock and his jaw drops. 

Charles rolls his eyes. He’s allowed to curse, thank you.

“What’s going on?” Charles demands with crossed arms and a pout on his lips.

Erik grinds his teeth. “Nothing.” 

“Bullshit, Erik,” Charles’ eyes narrow. “You’re hiding something.”

Erik pales considerably. And Charles feels, for a moment, suspicion and dread so heavy he can almost taste it. Doubt claws its way from his brain to his vulnerable heart, and something niggles at the very back of that doubt. Something Charles cannot yet name, but leaves him with an ominous perception that makes him nauseous. 

“Erik?” Charles is only a little ashamed to admit that his voice shakes. 

Erik looks away and won’t meet his eyes. 

“Are you breaking up with me?” Charles whispers hoarsely, eyes fixing on the floor. 

Erik recoils as if slapped. “No! I-- I don’t want to break up with you, Charles, it’s just I have to tell you something--”

“Oh god,” Charles breathes out in relief, “don’t scare me like that, darling, you had me worried sick. What is it, then?”

Erik’s mouth moves slightly, but no words come out. 

Charles tilts his head in confusion. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

Erik shakes his head. “This is… this is different.”

His confusion intensifies. “How?”

“Charles,” the sudden seriousness in Erik’s tone spooks him. 

“Y-yes?”

“I-- I love you.”

Charles is floored. He holds a hand up to his mouth and tries to keep the tears from escaping his eyes. 

“I-- oh, Erik-- I love you, too!” Charles charges at his boyfriend and leaps into his arms. He wraps his legs around Erik’s waist and squeezes hard. 

Charles doesn’t see Erik grimace, but he does feel the man’s arms wrap around his back. 

Charles wouldn’t give this moment up for the world. 

…

That night, Charles got a little carried away. He essentially pounced on the man as soon as they’d gotten to Charles’ house. Their kisses turn filthy and Charles stuck his hands under Erik’s shirt to explore the skin he’d been too nervous to touch before. 

But he’s not nervous anymore because Erik  _ loves _ him. 

Erik seems to get swept up in it, too, so when Charles boldly sticks a hand down Erik’s jeans to grasp his leaking cock he’s gratified to hear Erik groan. 

They come in their jeans some five minutes later and Charles wishes he could bask in the glow forever.

...

They’re invited to a party, and Charles just so happens to know that Raven will be there, too, because her friend Angel is hosting. It’d be good to see Raven again, he thinks. They haven’t spoken in months and all of Charles’ attempts to make things better have been thwarted and rebuked by Raven’s distressing silent-treatment. 

He still has no idea what he did. He hopes she’s ok. 

They get to the party, and though the other jocks there make fun of his outfit choice a little, Charles doesn’t mind. 

The party rages on and Erik eventually wanders off to procure some drinks. It’s taking him a lot longer than Charles would normally expect him to be, so Charles heads into the direction he saw Erik go.

(Later, he would wish he hadn’t. Later, he would mourn his blissful ignorance.)

Charles spots Erik by the refrigerator in the kitchen next to the porch door that is conveniently right in front of him. He’s about to call out to him when he sees  _ whom _ Erik is speaking to.

It’s Raven.

Erik is talking to Raven.

Something in Charles’ chest stops dead in its tracks. His brain niggling that ominous feeling pestering him; saying  _ something isn’t right. _

Their heads are bowed close together, their expressions taught and fierce like they’re having an argument, and their bodies are stiff with anger. Charles moves closer. He wonders what they could possibly be arguing about so gravely and discretely. 

He walks closer, curiosity and love for his distant sister overpowering him. 

“You have to tell him, Erik, I can’t  _ take  _ it anymore!”

“Just a little longer,” Erik’s voice insists, “it’ll all blow over.”

“It’s been  _ a year _ , Lehnsherr! If they were going to drop it by now they would have and you know it!”

“It was just a stupid bet! None of them won, anyways! It’ll blow over!” Erik’s voice rises a little.

That dead thing rattling in his chest turns ice cold. Fear grasps Charles’ throat and strangles his breath into gasps.

This can’t be happening.

“Won?!” Raven whisper-yells back, “The _ only _ reason none of them won is because he hasn’t slept with you, yet!”

It feels like that cold, dead thing in his chest sputters to a stop. His blood turns to ice in his veins and all the color drains from his skin, leaving him pale and shaky.

It can’t be. It… it just can’t be.

“You tell him,” Raven hisses, “or I will.”

Charles opens the patio door with trembling fingers. They move out of the way of the opening door and gape at him with no small amount of shock. “Tell me what?”

“C-Charles!” Raven stutters out. The first time she’s spoken to him in weeks and it’s because he’s caught them red-handed. 

Erik just closes his eyes and grimaces. “Nothing,” he tries to lie, “we’re just talking about--”

Charles fixes a scathing glare at Erik. 

Raven folds her arms and gestures her head into Charles’ direction. “Tell him, Erik.”

Erik releases a sigh. “Charles, I--” 

“The truth, Erik.” 

“It… it started out as a--a harmless joke. Everyone thought you were so unapproachable, so they dared me to ask you out,” Erik trails off.

Charles’s vision swirls and his ears ring. His soul feels like its being dragged out of his body only to be thrown down on a guillotine. 

“So I did,” Erik continues with shame evident in his voice. “But then you were so adorable and beautiful that I wanted to keep asking you out. So I told them to fuck off, but they started a bet amongst themselves about how long it would take you to fall in love with me…”

Charles inhales his gasp and clenches his hands into fists.

This is quickly becoming the worst day of his life. 

“No,” Charles whispers so quiet that neither of them seem to hear him.

“Nobody in their group really won that bet, so they made a new one.” 

Charles can guess what it was. 

“The captain… the captain bet that we’d have sex at your birthday party,” Erik says.

Charles blinks. “But we--” 

Erik shakes his head fast. “The goalie--Kurt-- saw me the next day at practice and told everyone we’d probably gotten frisky, but then they all said ‘penetration or it doesn’t count.’ So that’s why I’ve been a little--” Erik cuts himself off. “I didn’t want them to win, and they wouldn’t listen to me to knock it off. I love you, Charles,” Erik insists with a pleading tone to his voice. 

It falls on deaf ears. 

“Lies,” Charles whispers, “it was all lies.”

“Charles--” Erik tries to say.

“And you,” he looks at his sister, “how are you involved in all this?”

She bites her lips and doesn’t meet his eyes. “I-- I tried to--” She blushes deeply. 

“She kissed me and tried to seduce me,” Erik finishes. 

Charles’ jaw drops to the floor. 

“I didn’t know you were dating seriously, yet,” she tries to defend herself, “and he was in our house and he’s--” She gestures to the man. “He’s so  _ hot _ , you know? Charles, please,” she begs. 

Like her finding his boyfriend hot and trying to sleep with him isn’t a betrayal of the highest order. Like she hadn’t known about the bet.

“When did you know about the bet?” He asks miserably. 

She bites her lip again, harder, until it’s bloodless and pale. She doesn’t answer.

“From the beginning, then,” Charles surmises with his heart breaking anew. 

He didn’t think a heart could break so many times in one evening and still stay beating. 

“We’re done.” Charles says firmly, tears filling his eyes. He walks out the patio door he came in from and doesn’t look back. 

He hears them shouting after him, but they don’t run after him and that’s the most telling thing of all. 

He doesn’t know how he’ll finish the year, now, let alone the next. Maybe he’ll look in to going to a school in England. He does, technically, have dual citizenship. 

Yeah, he decides, a boarding school in England so he doesn’t have to stay one more moment in the awful place that’s torn him in half.

He arranges an Uber on his phone and just waits by the curb. He wraps his arms around himself and tries to stave off his breakdown a little longer. 

The car arrives and Charles yanks open the door and gets in. 

He’ll pack his bags tonight and get a flight in the morning to leave this wretched town behind. 

  
  


~*~   
  


Charles blinks awake.  _ What a rotten, rotten dream,  _ he thinks ruefully. 

He sits up, rubs his eyes, and realizes he’s been out by the pool all night. He hopes he doesn’t catch a cold. 

“Charles,” a voice says next to him.

Charles startles and flails out of his chair to land on his bum. He peers over the sunlounger to see who’s addressed him.

It’s Erik.

His heart picks up double time and his stomach sinks. The man had noticed him, then. 

“What do you  _ want,  _ Erik?” Charles snaps as he stands up. 

“To apologize,” the man says.

Charles stares at his once-highschool-boyfriend. The man has grown several inches and his face has lost its baby fat. 

Charles curses every god and deity he knows because Erik is still just as handsome, if not more so, than he was before. 

It isn’t fair.

“You’re fourteen years too late, Erik,” Charles snarls.

“You left,” Erik says with a shrug. “Nobody knew where.”

Charles grinds his teeth and glares. “ _ You _ ,” he hisses, “didn’t come after me when I ran away.”

Erik’s shoulders fall. “I know.”

“I don’t  _ need _ your apologies,” Charles continues, “and I’ve decided that I’m getting off on the first stop we come to.”

Erik just looks at him sadly. “I did love you, Charles, that part wasn’t the lie.” 

“Sure,” Charles says with disbelief, “it was just all the rest that was fake.”

Charles walks away and doesn't look back. He can't bear to go through all this again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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End file.
